


A Dash of Insight

by dracoqueen22



Series: Close to Home [4]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Campaign 2 (Critical Role), ClayLeb Week 2019, Feelings Realization, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Somewhere Around Episode 62
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-07
Updated: 2019-11-07
Packaged: 2021-01-24 13:56:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21339349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracoqueen22/pseuds/dracoqueen22
Summary: In which an exchange of favors leads Caleb to come to a sudden epiphany about Caduceus Clay.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay/Caleb Widogast
Series: Close to Home [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1535528
Comments: 9
Kudos: 110





	A Dash of Insight

**Author's Note:**

> For Clayleb Week 2019, technically for day two "serving life" but posted today for chronological reasons.

Xhorhas was not home.  
  
It could not _be_ home.  
  
Then again, Caleb Widogast did not have a home, did he? Because Caleb Widogast did not, technically, exist. Bren Ermendrud thought of the Zemni Fields as home, but Bren no longer existed either, so why not could Caleb Widogast make Xhorhas his home?  
  
He was a human in a foreign land, a land which did not like humans. Could he make this his home?  
  
No, no. The Empire, it was still home. Rotten to the core as it was, he could fix that. He knew he could. He just needed more.  
  
Time. Knowledge. Opportunity. All of it.  
  
For now, Xhorhas would do. It would help. There were answers here. Access. The Shadowhand, Essek, he could teach Caleb many things. He could be used.  
  
This was good. This was very good. He’d made the right choice. Caleb fully believed that. As he wandered through the room he’d picked for his own, a combination library and research room, he had to believe he’d made the right choice.  
  
He hadn’t abandoned Bren or the Empire. He hadn’t abandoned the idea of home. He was still working toward that end. This was a step on the path. This was--  
  
His door opened with a quiet creak. Caleb looked up from the bookshelf just as Caduceus poked his head inside, scanning the interior before finding Caleb with ease. He offered a smile and slipped within, bringing with him the calm he seemed to radiate.  
  
“This is a nice room,” he said, looking around, ears twitching as he surveyed with that outstanding and unusual perception of his. “You’ve really made it your own, Mr. Caleb.”  
  
“Just like you made the tower yours with that tree, eh?” Caleb replied, drawing all the tendrils of himself inward, until he was Caleb again, because Caleb he knew best.  
  
"Xhorhas might not be home, but that doesn't mean we can't make it one, since we might be here a while," Caduceus said with his usual infinite wisdom which somehow seemed to mirror and then echo some of Caleb’s earlier thoughts.  
  
That was when Caleb noticed the book, tucked under Caduceus' arm. He didn't immediately recognize the spine as it wasn't the one they read during their lessons.  
  
"I suppose you are right," Caleb said. "There's no reason we can't be comfortable while we decide our next move. I think we could all use a little bit of downtime."  
  
Caduceus nodded, his gaze lingering on the books Caleb had already collected and the paraphernalia he'd found. With time, he might have a genuine library. It was a nice thought.  
  
"You know, I always found that the kinds of things that make a home are the people living in it," Caduceus said, and he offered Caleb a smile, gesturing with the book in his hand. "Sharing meals, you know."  
  
Caleb tilted his head. "Uh, _ja_. That is true. We are a family, and this is our home."  
  
Caduceus lifted the book so Caleb could see the cover, and now the title. It was a cookbook, though it seemed to be Nicodranian based. "I thought, since you're so patient to teach me a few things, I might return the favor. Want to help with dinner?"  
  
"You are asking me to... cook with you?" Caleb asked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly, but not sure there was any other way to interpret the offer.  
  
"If you want. You said you weren't very good at it, and I wasn't very good at reading before you helped me, so it seemed like the thing to offer," Caduceus said, and he tucked the book back under his arm.  
  
Caleb blinked.  
  
"I mean, if you're busy, that's fine," Caduceus added.  
  
"I... sure. I mean, no. No, I'm not busy."  
  
He should be busy. Caleb had many more important things to do than spend time in the kitchen, soaking up Caduceus' gentle energy, and learning how to cook.  
  
He glanced at his books, at the papers littering his desk and the ink beside it, waiting for him to get to work. He thought about the definition of home and family, and how one could easily change their identities.  
  
"What did you have in mind?" Caleb asked. He swept off his overcoat, hung it on the back of his chair, and followed Caduceus out of the room.  
  
"Well, Jester gave me this cookbook a while back, and we haven't really been anywhere I could make use of it until now," Caduceus said as they headed toward the kitchen, the distant noise of Yasha and Beau sparring in the training room catching Caleb's brief attention.  
  
Nott -- or Veth -- was occupied with Yeza, and Caleb did not fault her that. He had no idea what Fjord and Jester were up to. Shopping, last he checked in, he thought. Jester had taken to the idea of furnishing their new home with utter glee, and had easily coaxed Fjord into being an extra pair of arms and eyes to help her.  
  
"Sounds good," Caleb said.  
  
The kitchen was warm and bright from numerous torches as though Caduceus wanted desperately to make it feel like the sun shone through the windows. It smelled of herbs and spices, and it radiated welcome and comfort, as if it had already absorbed whatever aura Caduceus emitted, so it could reflect that calm back into the world.  
  
Caduceus handed Caleb the book. "Why don't you pick something for us to make?" he suggested as he plucked an apron off the wall -- the very same one he'd used on the Balleater -- and tied it around his waist.  
  
Caleb set the cookbook on the counter and paged through it, looking for something of interest. He almost skimmed too quickly, and had to backtrack, when something caught his eye.  
  
"What about the _spatzle_," he suggested as fond memories choked at the back of his throat, and he had to take a moment. "It has a mushroom sauce. Or would that be too difficult?"  
  
"Hmm." Caduceus leaned over him, peering at the page. He was warm against Caleb's back, and he smelled like he'd been digging in his rooftop garden. "Oh. We could do this. Sure."  
  
Caduceus reached around him and picked up the book, placing it in a nearby stand to make it easier to see.  
  
Caleb's back felt a little colder. Which was ridiculous. So he shook himself and focused on rolling his sleeves to his elbows. He should probably wash his hands. He'd been organizing his components earlier, and there was phosphorus under his fingernails.  
  
"It's not too much?" Caleb asked.  
  
"It's perfect, Mr. Caleb. It'll be warm and filling, easy enough for beginners, and I think everyone will like it." Caduceus smiled at him as he pulled his own hair up into a messy bun at the top of his head. "Good choice."  
  
"What should I do then?" Caleb moved to the basin and washed his hands, making sure to scrub under his fingernails like his mother had taught him.  
  
Cookware clattered as Caduceus produced pots and cutting boards and utensils from all corners of the kitchen. He'd made himself at home here as much as Caleb had made the research room his.  
  
"I like to start with gathering all of the ingredients l need," Caduceus said as he started to arrange the cookware. "I've got the equipment if you want to get the rest."  
  
"Sure. I can do that."  
  
It was easy and companionable, how they moved around each other. Caleb read the ingredients off the recipe and gathered them with no trouble -- Caduceus had taken the time to label their various containers and barrels.  
  
The instructions were clear, but easier to understand as Caduceus explained the importance of mixing items separately, managing the heat of the cooking fire, and letting Caleb do as much of the work himself as possible.  
  
It reminded him of home. Of hanging on his mother's apronstrings as they baked together, or sitting on his father's knee as they plucked and cleaned a chicken. He did not view Caduceus as a parent, of course not, but the firbolg gave off such an aura of peace, it was hard not to associate the two things, his past and his present colliding and giving him a fierce ache of nostalgia and longing.  
  
"It takes patience," Caduceus rumbled as he instructed Caleb on dropping the dough into the pot of bubbling water, small strip by small strip. "But I don't think you have a problem with that."  
  
"I am a very patient man," Caleb said, and scraped another inch of the batter into the bubbling water.  
  
His skin tingled when Caduceus squeezed him on the shoulder before going back to stirring the mushroom sauce to go over the noodles, the rich liquid wafting a delicious, familiar odor.  
  
Caleb’s heart ached a little more.  
  
"You would have liked Corin," Caduceus said as he focused on stirring, everything about him radiating comfort and ease. "They are a thinker, too. Always thinking. It could be hard to get them out of their head sometimes."  
  
"Maybe one day we'll meet them."  
  
"It is a big world, Mr. Caleb. But if the Wildmother means for us to meet, we will," Caduceus said, and there was enough conviction in his voice to make Caleb a little envious.  
  
He had not been lying when he told Yussa he had faith in nothing save their little group. Caleb did not trust in a higher power. He did not trust those of higher station or those who declared themselves leaders of any kind. He'd had that kind of faith burned out of him.  
  
But he believed in people. Specifically, these seven people (because Mollymauk was dead, he was not gone, and Caleb refused to discount the mark Mollymauk had left on his life).  
  
"Family is... is a good thing," Caleb said quietly. He worked his jaw. "My mother, she could not cook very well, but this... this was a bit of her specialty. I never did learn her secret."  
  
"Was?" Caduceus echoed, one ear tilting toward him.  
  
Caleb swallowed over a lump in his throat. No, this was too painful. It was enough to let himself pick the recipe. No more, no less.  
  
"_Ja_. She is dead. She and my father." He pulled in a heavy breath and lifted his chin toward the counter. "Will you hand me that? I need to scoop these out."  
  
It made for a wonderful change of topic. They went back to managing their meal, Caleb studiously forming the noodle clumps while Caduceus finished off the sauce and ensured each boiled noodle was nice and browned in the skillet.  
  
They dished a very small portion off to the side for tasting, and Caleb first took a cautious sniff. It smelled edible, very much like what his mother used to make, and when he gave it a tentative lick, the flavor spilled across his tongue, savory and familiar. The dumplings were perfect; the sauce even better.  
  
It wasn't exactly his mother's _spatzle_, but it was close enough.  
  
Caduceus, meanwhile, had simply plopped the entire bite into his mouth. His eyebrows crawled upward as he considered before he burst into a large, pleased grin. "This is delicious," he said. "Your mother would be proud."  
  
Caleb's heart flipflopped in his chest. Warmth spread all throughout his body.  
  
Oh.  
  
Oh, no.  
  
"I... thank you, Mr. Clay," Caleb said, and hoped his voice didn't stutter, hoped wiping off his hands hid the subtle tremble in his fingers. His ears burned; his face did, too. And Caduceus was far too perceptive not to notice.  
  
Damn him.  
  
"It's only because I had such a good teacher," Caleb said, struggling to keep his voice even as the epiphany washed over him.  
  
Caduceus chuckled and gently bumped Caleb with a shoulder, though it was more his elbow given their height difference. "I'm returning the favor. I have a good teacher in you, too."  
  
"I-I suppose," Caleb said, his mouth abruptly dry, and his heart thudding so fast he felt it pulsing in his ears. "I should go get everyone for dinner, _ja_?" He backed away, untucking the towel from his shoulder to toss it onto the counter. "I think I can hear Beau's stomach growling from here."  
  
"Good idea. I'll go ahead and dish this up," Caduceus said.  
  
And Caleb?  
  
Caleb fled.  
  
No, no, no. This was not good.  
  
He paused in the hallway to catch his breath, his face afire, his fingers trembling. Heat throbbed through his body in a steady wave, threatening to overfill him with affection.  
  
He closed his eyes and drew in slow, steadying breaths, trying to will away the emotion bubbling up inside him.  
  
When had it started? He didn't know.  
  
It had come upon him gradually, like the slow creep of ivy over an old, abandoned house. It was pretty and decorative at first, until one realized it was too deeply rooted to remove. It nestled into every crack, every seam, and eventually, it might do untold damage, but for now, it was a pretty thing.  
  
A pretty thing Caleb knew better than to cultivate.  
  
"You fool," he muttered to himself. "You utter fool."  
  
This was no time to be falling for anyone, much less anyone in the Mighty Nein, and even lesser, someone as good as Caduceus Clay.  
  


***

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is absolutely welcome and appreciated!


End file.
